[Week 1.0]

They hadn’t specified what to wear, so Claire settled on a top and skirt combo and ankle boots. Fashionable, but practical, and not too formal. She put on her armor–daytime makeup–hyped herself up with some aggressive hip hop, then walked down to the sorority house. Saturday afternoons always left campus a little bit empty, but there were still people sitting in the cafes, completing the first assignments of the semester, or just hanging out on campus. Distantly, she spotted some people practicing for dance auditions.

She walked past the cognitive science building on her way to Northside. In a different life it would have been a refuge for her, the place she centered her college experience around. She would have have sat in the labs till late in the night, trying to perfect an assignment. 

She was glad she’d decided to become someone else. This new version of her was better.

When she reached the address on the invitation she spent a moment in awe of just how normal the house was. It was a completely standard free standing victorian. Two stories, a large lawn, and a cute little tower on the right side of the house. The outside had been painted an unassuming brown, and the only thing missing to make it even more perfectly ordinary would have been one of those little public-libraries-in-a-box that dotted west coast residential streets.

If this was the sorority house then Claire was going to be incredibly disappointed. Nevermind that–Delta Sigma was one of the smaller sororities, but this would fit maybe ten sisters if they weren’t all sleeping in bunks. There had to be something else as well.

Or maybe the address was wrong? She double checked the invitation, double checked her map. She was in the right place, so she steeled herself and walked up the steps. There was a cute little plant next to the door, something clearly watered with care. She knocked on the door.

A sorority sister greeted her. She wore a black leather choker, a short black dress, and high heels. Her face was entirely expressionless and blank, and she seemed to look straight through Claire. 

Claire tried to says something. “Hello?”

No reaction at all. Claire felt a chill run through her. The sister didn’t seem to be aware at all. She tried snapping in front of her eyes, but it did nothing. She tapped her shoulder, still nothing. Claire looked around, unsure what to do. Did she need help? Was this normal? She reached out to shake her, when a voice interrupted her.

“Please don’t do that.” A girl of medium height–she reminded Claire oddly the neighbor she’d celebrated Hanukkah with a few times as a child–spoke from the entrance to the living room. It was phrased as a request, but the tone didn’t leave any question that she expected to be obeyed.

Claire immediately tensed up, defenses activated. She’d just gotten here, and already she’d slipped up. She needed to draw less attention to herself, keep her guard up more, impress more. “Sorry, I was–“ she made a questioning gesture.

The curly haired girl seemed to soften a little. “You’ll understand in time. Please take off your shoes and come to the living room. You’re the last one.”

She turned around to leave, but then stopped. “My name is Miriam by the way, but you should probably get used to calling me Miss.”

The living room was large, with an array of couches. There were sisters standing all around the edges. They looked less frozen than the sister who opened the door, but they still radiated an eerie stillness. Claire felt watched, and together with the jungle-y plants the whole space felt small and oppressive.

Seven others already sat on the couches. Most shared the wide eyed and somewhat lost look that marked them as freshman joining their first student group. She’d have to make sure to keep that expression off her own face. Confidence.

Besides them and the three standing at the wall, there was a professional looking girl carrying a clipboard and wearing an androgynous suit. She looked up as Claire entered, and marked something down. Claire felt immediately on edge about her. Miriam went to stand next to her, pointedly waiting for Claire to find a place to sit.

Claire found an open spot next to a tall black-haired girl who seemed friendly enough. The girl waved at her and Claire felt a little more at ease, but before she could weave back Miriam clapped her hands twice. All eyes in the room immediately went to her. Somehow, she’d acquired a white riding crop, which she kept loosely in her left hand. 

“Alright, now that you’re all here! We can begin.” Miriam projected herself across the room, and Claire could feel her taking ownership of the space. “First things first, I want names, optionally pronouns, and something weird about you.”

Miriam looked to the left and to the right, then, settled on the left-most member, sitting on the couch closest to the window. “Alright,” she said with just a hint of levity, “you made the mistake of making eye contact with me, so you get to go first!” 

The new member froze for a second, but then found her bravery. She was tall and fairly skinny, dressed in stylish streetwear, with baggy pants that probably went with a set of fancy boots. She took a deep breath and gifted the room with a confident smile.

“My name is Diana, she/her pronouns, and, uhhh…” She thought for a second. “I once kept a wild raccoon as a pet? Does that count?” She looked to Miriam for approval, but didn’t look nervous anymore.

Miriam made an exaggerated thoughtful face. “It depends, exactly how long, and did you teach it any cool tricks?”

Diana grinned. “It could ‘sit’ and ‘rollover’, though I didn’t really make it to ‘stay’. I raised it from birth when I was 10, and actually kept it till  15 before it escaped out into the wild–we think it still visits sometimes with its new family, but we’re not sure.”

Miriam gave a thoughtful nod. “Yes, this will do. Next.”

The tiny girl sitting next to Diana tensed up, but tried putting on a brave face as well. She had brown hair that ran just a bit past her shoulder, with soft, messy looking waves. Less curly than Miriam’s, but shorter and curlier than Claire’s own. Her face made her look young, and her overall impression was a bit mousy. Her outfit was just as unassuming as the rest of her, and she seemed to curl in on herself and make herself as tiny as possible.

“My name is Becca.” She struggled for a moment. “My pet–

“Nope,” Miriam interrupted, “pet’s been taken”

Becca went wide eyed. “Ummm, umm, ummmm–”

She seemed to shrink into herself a little, panicked eyes glancing around the room. 

After a moment of awkward silence, Miriam spoke again, her voice softer this time. “Let me help you a little. What’s the weirdest porn you’ve watched?”

Becca blushed a scarlet red, but Miriam looked serious.

Seemingly without moving, Miriam got closer to Becca. She was within touching distance now, but it felt supportive instead of harsh, and Miriam seemed somehow smaller.

“It’s a simple question, and no one here will judge you for your answer,” she said.

Becca took a deep breath, then “Ithinkitwassomehentaiaboutlatexanimalsuits”

Miriam didn’t laugh, didn’t go back to being the massive presence she’d been at the start, didn’t even move. But she visibly relaxed, and radiated a kind of calm satisfaction. 

She looked into Becca’s eyes. “Good job. I’m proud of you.”

Becca blushed harder and, seemingly on instinct, leaned into Diana next to her. The taller girl placed an arm around her and made little calming motions on Becca’s left shoulder. Becca relaxed, and Claire felt a confused pang of longing.

Then Miriam slowly raised herself back up, went back to her spot in the circle, and gradually seemed to take up more space again. Her crop pointed at the group.

“Alright, Becca did great for not knowing,” she said, “but the rest of you: no subjects someone else went with. This isn’t supposed to be easy.”

The next person in line was tall and built like a rugby player. She had a college athletics sweater lying next to her as well, but had dressed up in a button down shirt and slacks for this occasion.

“My name is Riga, she/her pronouns,” she said, “and I once broke open a watermelon with my thighs.”

Miriam nodded, a serious and solemn expression on her face. “That definitely counts. Touché.”

She looked at the next person, a lanky girl wearing a crop top and a skirt with knee socks. Neon magenta hair and a choker completed the ensemble.

“Mmmmmm.” She looked thoughtful for a moment. “My name is Persephone, though you can call me Perse. She/they pronouns, and I once hooked up with a girl I just met at a punk show in a nearby skatepark.”

“Nope,” was all Miriam said. Her expression hadn’t changed, but Claire froze on Perse’s behalf.

Persephone’s expression was a mixture between shock and embarrassment. “Why?? That’s way more than either of the others admitted.”

Miriam’s face stayed perfectly neutral. “Because that wasn’t hard for you. Try again.”

There as a slight pause. But then Miriam continued.

“I also don’t appreciate whining,” she added, “so unless you want to be the first one to find out what happens to new members who disappoint me…”

Persephone jerked back, tensed up, then let out a deep shuddering breath.

“My mother used to get violent with my father. When I was a child it scared me…” she began, “but as I got older… it became weirdly fascinating. Sometimes I would watch.”

There was a moment of stunned silence from the other new members, but Miriam gave a Cheshire Cat smile, before softening slightly and brushing Persephone’s leg with her crop. 

“Good girl,” she intoned, “your vulnerability is carried here.”

Persephone blushed at that, but seemed comfortable enough. Claire, on the other hand, was starting to get stressed. She felt a confusing feeling in her stomach… She wasn’t sure exactly what was happening… but something inside her screamed danger.

There was one last person squeezed at the end of the far couch, sitting on top of the armrest like she owned the place. She was short, dressed in clearly expensive clothing, and had short, asymmetrical hair with an undercut. The confidence she radiated was absolutely infectious, and she grinned as she gave her answer.

“My name is Arie, and I once tortured a squirrel to death.”

Somehow, Miriam’s face didn’t even twitch, and the unhinged master of ceremonies stayed perfectly on beat. “That’s really nice, did you also want to share your pronouns?”

Arie blinked, probably expecting, for good reason, a larger reaction.

“Uhhh, they/them, though she/her is okay?”

Miriam looked at her assistant for a second. Claire had forgotten all about her, and in a deeply unsettling moment Claire realized that every Delta Sigma sister besides Miriam had been perfectly still since they started introductions, with the assistant twitching her head only ever so slightly up and down as she scribbled notes.

“Neha,” Miriam asked, “how many people do you know in the house that have tortured small animals?”

Neha finally looked up from her clipboard. “That I know of, ma’am, or would you like an estimate?”

“Sure,” Miriam replied, “give me an estimate.”

“I’d say somewhere between 4 and 7, ma’am,” Neha answered.

Miriam looked back at Arie. “There, now you can stop trying to impress me, and we can move on.”

The round moved to her couch, and the person on it nearest to Arie spoke up. She was a bit taller but still pretty short, with long black hair and a style that screamed Southern California.

“My name is Jenny, I use she/her pronouns, and something strange about me…” Despite having so much time to prepare, she seemed to struggle. “I have a third nipple.”

Miriam broke out in mirthful laughter at that. “The biology copout! I love it.”

The only other person who laughed was Persephone. Claire felt too off-balance–and the other new members probably did as well. The active sisters were either not in the mood or–could they even laugh? The perfectly still, almost drones at the wall? Every time she thought about them again Claire felt more and more unsettled.

If the lack of laughter bothered Miriam she didn’t show it at all, instead she waved to the next person with a lingering grin.

The girl next to her spoke up. 

“My name is Luna,” she said, “and a weird thing about me is that I’m trans.”

Everyone flinched as Miriam slapped the wall behind her with her riding crop. “No. Absolutely not.” 

She took a step towards Luna and Claire, stepped her right right foot onto the long, low coffee table between all the couches. Her riding crop touched Luna’s chin. “That does NOT make you weird here, and if I have to beat that out of you, I will do so with all the love and violence and affection in the world.”

“Okay.“ Luna looked stunned at first, then seemed to sink into the couch a little. “Okay.” She was suddenly much more relaxed–Claire hadn’t realized just how tense the girl had been.

“My name is Luna, and every night I sleep with a stuffed shark from Ikea.”

The crop disappeared, and Miriam gave Luna a beaming smile. “Verrry good,” she purred, “but that said, Neha?”

“Two,” the assistant said.

No one explained what two meant. Instead, the focus shifted to Claire. “Alright last one,” Miriam said.

Claire wasn’t ready for all eyes on the room to be on her. Especially as the answers kept getting weirder and weirder. Whatever she’d expected joining a sorority to be like, it wasn’t… this bizarre.

“My name is Claire, I use she/her pronouns, and something weird about me…” She felt exposed, but she needed to offer up something juicy enough that Miriam would accept it, but also something that would make her look good. “I once hooked up with a boy in a school closet.”

Claire’s heart pounded, but Miriam looked unimpressed. She’d already been leaning towards Claire, but now she placed an elbow on her knee and leant her head onto her palm. She wasn’t actually that close, but Claire still felt as if she was right up in her personal space.

“Claire Moretti,” she drawled, “quiz bowl state finalist, president of the bridge competition, and two time failed candidate for class Vice President. Presumably here trying to turn over a new leaf.”

Claire was frozen in terror, but Miriam continued.

“Claire, Claire, Claire, I asked you for vulnerability, and you’re honestly going to walk in here and tell me about a sexual conquest?” she asked, her tone sickly sweet. “Try again.”

Claire panicked a little, until suddenly a hand was on her shoulder. She almost jumped. One of the silent sisters had come over from the wall, and she standing behind the couch, looking down at her. For a moment Claire felt like prey, but the smile on the sister’s face was so gentle Claire couldn’t help but relax. The hand on her shoulder began exerting gentle pressure, almost like one half of a shoulder massage.

Somehow, it made things a little easier.

She took a deep breath. She could do this, she could control herself and she could answer the questions.

Claire closed her eyes, then spoke. “I once cheated on a math test.”

There was silence, and Claire opened one eye. Miriam looked amused, but approving.

“You get one too,” she spoke softly, “good girl.”

The warmth that erupted deep in Claire’s chest somehow made everything worse. What was going on here?